


The Dragon and the Prostitute

by BlankLiterature



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 16:45:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2236203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlankLiterature/pseuds/BlankLiterature
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I tried in vain to search for the hidden motives behind her actions, but I couldn't find them no matter how hard I thought about it. But the fact was that she was offering help... and I desperately needed help, any help. Even if that came from a slave." Dany has to figure out how to adapt to her new reality among the dothraki, and there's only one person willing to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is based a lot more on the way things happened in the books than on the way they happened in the TV series. This is not too noticeable in this chapter, but will be in the next one. By the way, this will be a two-shot.

She was given to me on my wedding day by my brother, as one of the many bride gifts I received on that occasion. She was bought as a slave and her main function was, in Viserys's words, "instruct me in the arts of love", which was his euphemism to say that she was going to teach me how to please my new husband in bed, so that he would be happy and would give my brother the army and the crown he wanted.

I was absolutely sure that his choice of words was simply because of the presence of Magister Illyrio, maybe even of Ser Jorah, but definitely not because of me. Viserys never controlled his words for my sake. If it had been just the two of us, he would have probably told me that she was there to teach me how to fuck _khal_ Drogo, and maybe his whole _khalasar_ , if that's what it took him to conquer his throne. It's not like he hadn't already said that, word by word, after all.

But still, those were the words he used on that day, even though I perfectly understood the meaning behind them. And I hated him even a bit more than I already did for forcing me to marry that barbarian, because he had just added to that the public embarrassment of his "gift". I couldn't help but blushing; but looking around, I quickly realized I was the only one to show any kind of reaction. Everyone else was probably too polite to manifest any thoughts on that.

I decided I'd just leave it alone, as I almost always did when it came to my brother, and pretend to have appreciated his _consideration_. I'd let the slave serve me, as the other 2 he also gave me that night for different purposes, but I would not ask of her those specific services. Surely she could be useful for cooking or helping me bathe, or even for company, since apparently she was the only one who spoke the Common Tongue well around there.

And so it was for the next moons, more than I dared to count. She would talk to me, and she even started learning _dothraki_ with me from Jhiqi. She would tell me tales she had heard from all of Essos, legends and stories of kings, queens, princes, princesses, merchants, and even of dragons, since she soon learnt those were my favorite (and, as it turns out, hers too), to distract me during the long hours of riding. When night came and the _khalasar_ camped somewhere, the three of them would help me off my mare and bathe me and take care of my wounds; but Doreah's touch was always the most tender. It was almost like she cared, like she wasn't doing that simply because she was my slave and was thus expected to, and risking punishment if she didn't.

Still, I was numb to all of that. I was numb to everything around me, as I had to be, otherwise I would not have been able to take it. Otherwise I would have died... as I almost did. As I almost certainly would have, if she had not intervened. At the time, I wondered why she did. Why would she care about the fact that I cried myself to sleep every night? Why would she care that I had to muffle my sobs as my husband took me every night? Was that making it harder for her to sleep? But if that was the reason... then why would she also care that I barely ate, that my bones were visible, that the dark circles under my eyes just grew larger?

I was not used to kindness, and I was certainly not expecting to receive any... not from anyone, but especially not from a slave. I tried in vain to search for the hidden motives behind her actions, but I couldn't find them no matter how hard I thought about it. But the fact was that she was offering help... and I desperately needed help, _any_ help. Even if that came from a slave. After all, that was still better than the help I had been considering up to that point; the help that came from a leather string tied to a tree forming a noose where I could stick my head through. I was not in a position to deny any form of help. Even if it meant taking her "lessons" after all.

Up to the evening I called her aside and asked her to teach me what she knew, however, I would have never imagined that those lessons wouldn't involve just the theory of it. But just a few moments later, I found myself lying flat on my back, with the lysene girl on top of me, her dark hair falling around her face and down her back, moving her hips against mine, and telling me that that was how I was supposed to do to my husband. The breath was caught in my throat and my heart beat way faster than normal, but I kept telling myself it was just because of the unexpectedness of it all.

I tried to push her off of me, telling her _khal_ Drogo would never agree to do things that way – that was not how the _dothrakis_ did it. But apparently she was smart as well as _talented_ , because what she said did make sense: if my husband had wanted things to be done the _dothraki_ way, he would have chosen a _dothraki_ woman to marry. If he chose to marry me, then he would probably be open for a bit of change; I just had to learn the right things to do, the things which, according to her, would make him unable to deny me anything. Maybe she was right... so all I could do was lie down and let her straddle me again and place my hands on either side of her hips, so that I could feel and learn even the littlest of her movements.

My heart rate hadn't lowered the slightest bit. If anything, if was growing higher and higher, and I could really not understand why at first. That is, until I realized I was actually enjoying whatever she was doing. Not only no one had ever touched me that softly, which on its own would be enough to give me part of that tingly sensation I was feeling... but there was something else. Something else that was making me suddenly feel hot all over my body, but especially where her hands were roaming and her pelvis was pressing onto mine. Something else that was enough to make me gasp when her fingers reached a certain spot. I wasn't sure I actually had the capacity to learn anything anymore; my mind was way to hazy for that at that moment. But I wasn't about to interrupt the "lesson" to object either.

That was the first time in my life that physical contact felt enjoyable, extremely so. It wasn't like when my brother touched my face or my hair or the small of my back, seemingly softly, but still with the always present threat of "waking the dragon", and it most definitely was not like when he hit me either. And it was also very different from the way my husband touched me. I always knew that he intended no harm, that he was doing it just like every other _dothraki_ mandid, and he simply saw no evil in that... but still that knowledge did not change the fact that it was always a nightmare. It was also not like when the servants or slaves washed me and brushed my hair, even if that was the closest comparison I had; but on those occasions, it was always dutiful, methodical, cold.

With Doreah, it was different. I would not know how to explain what made it different... but I could feel that it was. I could feel it with every fiber of my body, with every little patch of skin that reacted to her touch until I felt like I was literally exploding. I was actually surprised to find out that I was still in one piece, because that just did not seem possible. And suddenly I understood why she had said that, soon, my husband would be willing to grant my every wish. If I could make him feel anything similar to what I had just felt... then that much was very obvious.

Because, at that moment, I felt like I would do anything that girl asked me to, even if she was the slave and I was the _khaleesi_. I would do anything... even stay alive. In the end, that was what made me decide to live; that was what saved me. _She_ was what saved me. For the next moon or so, I found all the possible excuses to continue with our "lessons". I was still not sure whether I was learning any practical skills... but I needed that. I needed her, I needed our time together, I needed her touch, I needed the time we spent talking afterwards.

I enjoyed listening to her tell me about her life, and about how she had learnt everything she was now teaching me, even if it made me angry to find out that her so called _instruction_ had begun when she was no more than a child. She might not have slept with a man at first and not for a few years, but that did not change the fact that it was just not right. Besides, even twelve was way too young for that. It outraged me... even after she reminded me that I myself had not been much older than that when I got married. Still, the girl was wise beyond her years, just like I myself was in a way, and that made us relate to each other somehow. It also made me sorry for her, though, because I knew that wisdom only came from pain. But if we could take comfort in each other's arms for a while, then perhaps the pain we had both gone through would not have been in vain, she told me, and I could only agree.

When the time came and Doreah told me that I was ready, that I had already learned every single thing she could teach me, I was shaking. I didn't know why, since obviously it could not have been worse than what had already been happening with my husband every single night for months. If there would be any change, it could only be for the better. But still, there was a lump in my throat, that only later I realized had nothing to do with the _khal_ , but with the perspective of not having that time with her anymore. She must have known that before I did; she must have probably even felt the same way. But still she reassured me that it would all be fine.

And so it was. Doreah had been right in every single thing she had told me, and Drogo was completely satisfied doing things my way. For the first time since my wedding, nightfall did not bring me tears and pain, but pleasure and, finally, what felt like real intimacy with my husband. It was from that point on that things started getting better. First of all on my relationship with him, since he began spending more time with me instead of staying with his bloodriders the whole day and just coming to me at night. But somehow, knowing that I could do that made me believe in myself, which I never had before. And that was all it took for me to decide that I was not going to let adversity win.

If I could do that, if I could stand what I had stood and if I could do what I had done, then I could learn how to ride for a whole day without becoming all bruised and weak and ending up with blood-covered hands, and I could learn how to eat their food, and I could learn that damn language of theirs, and I could become a real _khaleesi_. Because then, for the first time in my life, I had two people who stood beside me while I did so. Two people who also believe in me and who were not going to let me quit. But the first of them was her, not my husband.

He might have become my sun and stars, and I his moon; but she was my universe. She was whatever it is that is beyond the sun, the stars, the moon, the clouds, beyond everything we see. She was the unknown force that makes all of those fall into their places and stay in them. After all, I would have never even _had_ my sun and stars if it wasn't for her; he had been my _khal_ since the day of our wedding, but it was because of her that I could now call him my husband, proudly so. I needed her like I came to need him too. They were two sides of the same heart, like each of them was one arm and one leg and I couldn't do anything without the knowledge that I had both ready to support me and help me stand.


	2. Chapter 2

In the end, I knew very well that I needed Doreah to be by my side just as much as I needed Drogo... if not even a bit more. So of course I couldn't manage to cease our meetings. I tried, I really did... but four whole days were all I could take, because they felt like years, centuries even. So we found a way. Or I found a way, and she complied, as she always had. I did not have the excuse of the lessons anymore, but I did still have the excuse of needing a confidant that actually spoke my language to talk to. I still needed distractions when my husband was too busy to be with me. And conveniently, she was simply the most equipped to provide them.

This did not go unnoticed, obviously. Especially by my two other handmaidens. They were already jealous of the fact that she was clearly closer to me than either of them before, but until then, that had had a reason to be so. However, when that reason ceased and I almost instantly made up another one, they noticed it just as quickly. Women are always quicker to notice these things, after all. Irri especially had very keen eyes, and used them very well to keep track of everything around her. Every so often, I found those were directed at me, and at Doreah as well. But whenever her and I were together, even if we were simply talking, Irri's eyes seemed to have been the subject of very powerful magic that locked them in place and pretty much made it impossible for her to look anywhere else but at us. At those times, the expression on her face was never pleasant, although her position as my slave prevented her from ever uttering a word about it.

I was never sure of whether Drogo knew about us or not; but if he did, he never seemed to mind. He was happy in every single way; _I_ made him so. At that point, I could literally get whatever I wanted from him; why not some time alone with one of my handmaidens, who also happened to be my only friend? It was also an excellent excuse to avoid Viserys. When all my free time was spent either with her or with my husband inside my tent, then there were not many chances of running into my brother around. It all just worked out so perfectly... I could barely believe it. Never before in my life had things gone so well. Never before had I been so happy. I should have known then... I should have known it all along.

But no, I didn't... I was blind. All that joy, all that love, all the power I could feel coursing through my veins blinded me to it. I thought that, maybe, I was finally getting my reward from the gods for a whole life of pain. Even my brother, my biggest tormentor during all those years, finally left me alone, and in more than one way. And even that was also due to the two people I had behind me and next to me.

Once I managed to establish my position in the _khalasar_ , once everyone knew Drogo was linked to me and would protect me and care for me no matter what, I started to realize just how much indirect authority and power I had – something which my brother could only dream of. I started to realize that I did not have any reasons to fear him anymore; he couldn't cause me any harm when I was surrounded by warriors who'd chop his head off in a single blow, if I as much as told them to. My husband made me feel safe by showing me his men were willing to be as protective of me as he himself would be, was he not around. That knowledge changed the way I saw things. But what really changed the way I myself acted was Doreah; or better, the way my brother treated her.

It was not a secret to anyone that he didn't only have a second intention when gifting me with her, by hoping my husband would be pleased enough to grant him his army; he had a third intention even, which was making use of her _talents_ himself. He had been doing exactly that since the very moment the two of us joined the _khalasar_ and set march; thus, even before I myself took any interest in her. Still, it started to bother me more and more... especially because I knew she was not any happy with that, but, as a slave, was in no position to oppose herself. But I was. I was the _khaleesi_ , after all. So that fact alone got me thinking about how to end that situation.

Before I could even figure out a way to do that without bringing on my brother's wrath, however, he himself did that for me. I had simply sent her to his tent to invite him for dinner... but he had somehow taken offense at that, and made her pay the price for it, since he had already figured he could do me no harm there anymore.

He barged into my tent dragging her by her hair, and simply threw her carelessly on the floor, as if she were no more than an object – which is exactly how he probably saw her. And all I needed was one look at her reddened cheeks and her tear-streaked face to know that I had had enough. I had had enough of him doing that kind of thing to me, and I had had enough of him doing that kind of thing to anyone else. Especially to her. _My_ own dragon had been awoken at that very moment.

I am not even sure that I had any control over what I said to him that afternoon; I just know it all came out in yells, the ones that I had been keeping in my whole life. Before I knew, he was jumping on me... and for the first time in my life, I fought back. And I actually hurt him, I stabbed him with the first thing I could find, and it was enough to draw blood and, as I had hoped, to make him move away. I looked at him and I saw anger... more anger than I had ever seen in him before, which says a lot. But for the first time, I also saw fear; the fear that was usually present on _my_ face whenever we argued, whenever he threatened me, whenever he hit me, was now showing on _his_ face instead.

And I liked it; it made me feel safe to know he feared me. I don't even know where that came from, but I meant every single word I said when I told him that the next time he laid hands on either one of us would be the very last time he _had_ hands. He knew I could make it happen. And now, he also knew that I _would_ , if necessary.

Because I couldn't let that go on anymore. I had taken it all my life... and I had somehow learned to stand it, to just bow my head down and take whatever he wanted to inflict upon me. But the more I lived among the _dothraki_ , the more I realized how unacceptable that was. And if I could then see that it was completely unacceptable for me... it was even worse for her. I simply could not let him lay a single finger on her. Not on the woman that had saved me. Not on the woman I loved, and who I knew loved me back. So, because of her, I was finally free of the power Viserys had over me.

And because of Drogo, I was later on freed from him. I did not want that... I repeat that to myself every single time I think about it. I did not want that to happen at all. I never even thought it would come to that. But, in retrospect, he had it coming upon himself. Who did he think he was, to speak to the _khal_ the way he did? Who did he think he was, storming into the tent in the middle of a celebration, with a sword in hand – which was on itself a crime – and threatening the _khaleesi_ and the child she carried in her womb, the _khal_ 's son?

I was so shocked... I barely had time to react at all. It was Doreah, who was always sitting by my side, who had the quickest reflex and moved to stand between his blade and me. And once more my heart was moved by the actions of that girl, who was supposedly my slave, but who was willing to sacrifice her life for mine if it came down to it. But no, I couldn't let her. His problem was with my husband and me; she was far too innocent to pay any price in that. All I could do was push her away and hope he'd focus his attention on me, so that I got to spare both my loves.

He did not have time to do any harm to anyone, however. Drogo had also been quick to act, or to order action, and in a second, my brother was being grabbed by two of his men. And then it happened. Ser Jorah told me over and over again to turn my head; Doreah and the other two also pleaded with me to look away... but I just couldn't. I had to see it. I had to see if he was really the dragon. Because dragons cannot be conquered by fire; they _are_ the fire. And that night, I knew my brother was certainly no dragon.

After that, I thought we would finally have peace. But no.. I have learnt that is probably just a made up concept, no more real than the fleeting dreams we have just before waking up. There was the incident in the market, when I almost found my own end in a poisoned gallon of wine. And then it started: the battles, the wars, my sun and stars trying to get as many men as he could to fight with him, and as many slaves as he could to trade for ships and sail to Westeros... to bring me and his son the throne that my brother had wanted for his own life, and that, until then, Drogo had showed absolutely no interest in. But things changed when his unborn son's and his wife's security was threatened. He wanted vengeance. I should have known this kind of thing never ends well.

And then it all just happened so fast... so fast that it still seems like a huge blur in my mind. The wound to his chest, during a fight caused by my own stubbornness. The _maegi_ offering to help... and me innocently allowing her to and even asking him to agree to it. His state quickly deteriorating... to the point where he could no longer even ride. His _khalasar_ erupting into chaos and confusion because he was no longer in any state to lead it. Me again recurring to the sorceress, in search of a miracle. Her betrayal.

Her betrayal, that cost me the life of my child, and the spirit of my husband, and in the end, also his life. By my own fault. Because I unwittingly trusted her, in spite of all the warning I received. At that point, nearly all my newfound strength was gone. All the sense of security, or self-trust that I had recently acquired just seemed to disappear beyond my eyes, being replaced by nothing but guilt and pain. I did not think for one moment that I could go through that and remain alive inside or outside. But I did – because of her.

Because, all through it, I could feel her beside me. Even when her shock at all that was happening was way too big to allow her to say anything, she was still there in her silence. Her arms were still around me at night, and during the day she only left me to get food and water that she tried to convince me to eat and drink. I still had her, I still had her love and the strength it gave me, even if it felt so little compared to my pain and to the lack of my other love and our son.

But in the end, it was just enough. Enough to get me on my feet, to allow me to make the decisions I had to make and take the measures I had to take, to guide me to enter that pyre and stand the heat and the fire like the dragon that _I_ am after all, to remind me to take my egg-rocks with me and watch my little dragons be born. Enough to convince the few people that had stayed behind that I could lead them like any men would, that I could be a _khaleesi_ that was just as fierce as any _khal_ , enough to show them that I was and am willing to take what is mine... with fire and blood. But it was just because of her that I would.

It was just because of her presence beside me that I even believed I could do it in the first place. And it was that belief that led me to try and take my tiny little _khalasar_ through the Red Waste, through hunger and thirst and plague and loss and despair. It was my own fire that I carry within that made me do it and reach this far and get to where I am now; but if it wasn't for that girl, this fire would still be fast asleep.

And now, because of me... she is dead. Because of my stubbornness in making this journey and taking this route, ignoring all the advice I received against it. Because of my pride that made me think I could do this even if no one else had before. Because of my lack of knowledge, lack of provisions, lack of a way to cure her from the disease so many others had already died from during our journey. I couldn't save her, just like I couldn't save Drogo, or Rhaego, or either of my brothers, or my little niece and nephew, or my parents. Not only that, but just like with my husband and son, I have only my own self to blame for her death. I have only my own self to hold responsible for all the harm that has happened to the people I have loved the most. It is only fair that they would continue to haunt me until these eyes have closed for the lat time.

Now, after reaching this abandoned city that has just enough to keep us all alive, I can't help but wish Doreah had been able to hold on for just a little longer; here, I'd have been able to nurse her back to health. But no, I couldn't. I had to bury her in the desert, in the sand, wetting the dry soil with my tears, which were the only water I still had, and crying like I had not done for either the man or the baby I had also recently lost. I could not bring her to Vaes Tolorro with me, I will not be able to bring her to Westeros with me... but in a way, I will.

My other handmaids tell me this place is full of ghosts. Ser Jorah does not deny it, but instead tells me that there are ghosts everywhere; we carry them around wherever we go. He is right. I will carry them, all of them, with me, through every single step of the journey. I will carry the family I was born into; Viserys, who is still my brother and my blood in spite of it all, and also all the others whom I never even met, but about whom I've heard all my life, and whom I love even without knowing. I will carry the family I gained by marriage; my sun and stars, the light of my path, and out little stallion. And I will carry her, the universe and beyond.


End file.
